#i use the top of the fridge for storage instead

[categorysixkaiju]

number one thing i like having my own apartment about is that the kitchen is organized to my exact standards. for instance: nothing except extremely once-in-a-while items are stored above the lowest level of the cabinets.

[unholyhelbig]

Romanov smut??

[This is 18+, if you are a minor DO NOT INTERACT, I will report you.]

Title: Spin Cyle

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Warnings: Top!Natasha, Dom!Nat, Definate Mommy kink, semi-public sex, swearing, fingering (R recieving), derogatory names, pet names, Dom/sub dynamic, finger sucking, slight bimbofication if you squint [lmk if I'm missing anything], horrible grammar.

Summary: Reader is working the overnight shift at the laundromat when a mysterious stranger comes in with motives that are clear from the start.

[A/n: And so what if I have thing for laundromats? They're comforting, okay? I like writing fluff but sometimes you just really have to get in there. ]

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Spic & Span was one of the only laundromats left in a city that swarmed around a university, so it was always teeming with people. Between classes, students with headphones on and powder laundry soap would occupy the tables that pockmarked the large space.

No washer nor dryer were the same; some were a beautiful turquoise, with rusted patches on the front. Others were a sickly olive green that had once been coveted among housewives. They all seemed to function perfectly despite their age; but it was your job to make sure they did just that.

The usual shift you worked was 8:00pm to 8:00am, and aside from the stray kid here or there, it was mostly a silent endeavor. Since starting six months ago you had torn through at least fifteen novels, and when you grew bored of that, you moved onto movies that would hold your attention until the small bell above the door sounded.

You’d learned quickly that when people were doing their laundry, they were looking for peace. It was a tedious chore and the last thing they needed was someone breathing down their neck. Sometimes, there was the occasional person who was looking to chat, which you obliged to eagerly in order to break the silence.

It had been a clear, but cold, evening when she first came in. With none of the machines in use, the only mechanical buzz came from the vending machine in the corner that offered up stale snack-cakes and off brand soda.

Out of habit, when the bell sounded, you leaned back in the office chair and peaked around the doorframe into the main space. You were designated to the small room that had a desk, and place to sit, but was mainly a storage closet. The mini-fridge was sidled up next to a mop bucket that smelled so thickly of musk, no one tended to use either.

The woman didn’t look familiar to you. Over time you had gotten to know the regulars, and you were certain that you would remember her. Even under the harsh overhead lights, you clocked her beautiful complexion, her focused green eyes as she dug in her pockets for change. Her hair was an electrifying red, lips pursed together in frustration.

She didn’t’ have a laundry basket with her, nor her own soap. It seemed as if she were entirely unprepared to do any type of wash, and that made your fingers twitch nervously. You watched, cheeks heating up, as she stripped her shirt off and loaded it into the machine.

Goosebumps rose on her perfect skin, yet, she didn’t’ seem to mind; and holy shit, she was sporting a tight pack of abs. She shimmied her pants off and you forced yourself to look away. This was wrong. Admiring a gorgeous figure was one thing, but you refused to let your eyes linger.

Instead, you went back to your book, reading the same paragraph over and over again. None of the words were sticking. All you could think about was the curve of the woman’s mouth, how good it would feel to have it kiss every inch of your body, leaving little bruises in her wake. You were hopeless.

“Excuse me?”

The book flew from your hands, crashing onto the linoleum as you placed both feet firmly on the floor. She had been quiet in her endeavor to find you, to find anyone. It was nearly unnerving how she had wandered over undetected.

She was clad in a black lace bra and a pair of sweatpants that hugged her tightly and left little to the imagination. The amount of skin she was showing didn’t seem to bother her as much as it had flustered you.

“I think the soap dispenser ate my quarters.”

“Yeah, yes, uh” You shot to your feet at a dizzying speed “it does that. I have… key.”

She lifted both of her eyebrows at you, and you swore that you saw her smirk. You scooted past her, and she made no attempt to move. You could feel her body heat, your front pressing against hers. You did your best to mentally scold yourself for the reaction your body had to the proximity of hers. She smelled like vanilla, like something more biting that you couldn’t place your finger on. The stranger tracked your every movement.

“Just you tonight?” She asked, voice lilted.

You hummed nervously in response before heading over the small manual vending machine that would dispense little packets of soap if you had chosen to use it on the right day. She followed closely behind you, and you felt her heated stare as you unlocked the case.

“Pick your poison.”

“Mm, what do you recommend?”

“Um,” You turned, her eyes were glinting mischievously, arms crossed over her chest. It  was almost painful keeping yourself modest in this situation. You refused to let them wander, but squeezed your thighs together to dispel the thoughts. “Tide.”

“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?”

The woman reached forward and grabbed the suggested package. She didn’t’ wait for your response. Instead, she sauntered back over to her machine.

Your mouth was suddenly incredibly dry, and it was hard to lock the soap back up without fumbling. You’d dropped the keys twice before picking them up and succeeding in your task. Building up the confidence, you turned to ask if the woman needed anything else, but were once again, stilled in your movements.

She shimmied out of her sweatpants in a painstakingly slow manner. It was deliberate, you were sure, and if you weren’t than the salacious eye contact she made with you while straightening up and throwing her sweatpants in with the rest of her load confirmed it.

She was wearing the slightest bit of fabric in a black lace that matched her bra. Your eyes betrayed you, scouring her head to toe for any imperfection, but you found none. She was utterly perfect.

This had to be some type of test. There were hidden cameras somewhere and your overnight job that paid you a measly 7.50 an hour was trying to test your morals. This was the devil, and she was in lingerie, lilting her head at you expectantly.

“Damn it all,” She cooed, frowning down at the machine “It seems I don’t know how to work this thing at all. Every machine is different, you know? I might need a little help.”

Fuck.

You must not have moved because a few moments later she let out a breathy chuckle. “That is your job, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

She smelled like spiced coffee, something you caught a whiff of because she didn’t attempt to step back when you joined her. There was an immense body heat radiating from her, and you fought back a whimper when her hand touched the base of your spine. She was peering over your shoulder. She simply hadn’t pressed start- but you weren’t going to tell her that.

Instead, you savored the sparingly tantalizing touch and hit the button yourself. A low whirring filled the room. It was a sound that you were more than familiar with. The cycles of the washing machine were counted as easily as your own breaths.

“Dense, aren’t you?”

“hmm?”

You felt your cheeks redden as you turned to face her. Your back was flush against the machine, replacing her hand on your spine. You instantly missed her touch. She was so close to you now, but still took another step closer as if you could climb into the washer to avoid her.

“Sweet girl, I’ve thrown every hint at you in the book.” Her fingers came up to the collar of your shirt, dancing at its hem, right past the fabric until they left blazing trails on your collarbone. You clenched your eyes shut, letting out a shuttered exhale. “While I do love a woman with manners, must I ask?”

“I’m not sure I… understand.”

She whispered against your lips, not quite touching “You’re much too tightly wound, darling. Do you want mommy to take care of you?”

No one has ever asked you this before. Most of your partners, while satisfying, wouldn’t dare murmur anything close to what this stranger had just said. And you were much too shy to ask. Instead, you settled for spicy romance novels, and a magic wand that never seemed to itch that insatiable scratch.

“Don’t be so shy now. I saw the novel you were reading earlier. It’s just such a coincidence that it’s just the two of us here.”

Your forehead was pressed against hers and you stared into intense fern-colored eyes. God, you wanted her to take you right here, right now. There was something much too scandalous about fucking in the open, a feeling that you wanted to capture and savor.

“All you have to do is ask.”

You swore there was a slight Russian lilt to her voice. The more she got worked up, the more in was shining through. Her breath was quickening in pace with yours, the proximity of her making you press your thighs together to quell the excitement that threatened to drip through the fabric of your pants.

“Please,”

Her hand came up and gripped your chin in a fluid movement, manicured fingers squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. “Please what, Kotenok? What do you need from mommy?”

“Touch me,” It came out as a whimper that was much too desperate for you liking, “I need to feel you.”

An animalistic growl rumbled in her throat before she pushed her mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. You parted your lips, groans muffled by her tongue swirling around your mouth. She tasted like coffee, the same you had smelled earlier.

She reached down and ripped your shirt open, the pearlescent buttons popping away and scattering under the many machines around you both. You didn’t have much time to protest the destruction of your shirt before she palmed your breasts.

There was a mischievous look in her eyes at the front latching bra you wore. “Wow, you really are a little desperate slut, aren’t you?”

She unhooked and discarded the garment before you could get out more than a hungry noise. Her lips attached to one of your nipples, her hand grasping the other breast and giving it an almost-painful squeeze. You arched your back, pushing more of yourself into her hot mouth. Her tongue licked away the goosebumps raising against your skin in response to her ministrations.

You would have done just about anything for her at this moment, her fingers delicately ghosting over your stomach at the waistline of your jeans. Each shuttered breath pushed you closer to her.

In a swift movement she lifted you onto the top of the washing machine. You weren’t prepared for the bout of strength, nor the spin cycle that was happening below you. Another whimper escaped you and she looked at you with a wolfish smile.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you dare think about cuming on top of an appliance.” She squeezed your hip and you took the cue to lift yourself enough for her to pull your jeans down and discard them with your panties. “Though, it appears your wet enough at the idea.”

A downright beautiful woman had you sweating and naked on top of a washing machine, promising to take care of your every need, no matter how salacious it was. Of course you were wet, dripping, actually.

Still, you flushed when she worked a single finger up your slit, testing it for herself. You shivered at the simple gesture, falling close to her. You felt her chuckle at your expense. “Mm, Kotenok, so desperate.”

Her thumb brushed against your cheek, you could smell your own sex on her fingers. She’d barely touched you, yet they were soaked. They traced your lips and you parted them on the silent command. There was a satisfied look on her eyes, at how easily you had folded for her.

You sucked her fingers, never breaking eye contact. Her stare was starving. “God, you’d look amazing choking on my strap, darling. I’m sure it’d stretch you out nicely.”

You groaned against her fingers, something that sounded along the lines of ‘fuck’ escaped you. Her other hand dipped lower, a gentle touch brushing against your clit. Your breath hitched, and you fell forward, you head on her shoulder.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you garbled, careful not to bite down on her fingers, but thankful that they muffled your expletives. “I want to cum.”

“Mm, but darling, you have to let mommy have her way with you, no matter how long it takes. That’s what good little whores do. That’s what toys do.”  

God, you’d do exactly that, anything to sate the need that made you want to buck desperately against the machine under you. It’s vibrations were slowing, but that didn’t stop your crude wanting to climax.

Without warning, the woman inserted a single digit into you. A gasp sounded around her fingers. She curled her touch inside of you and you pressed further into her. A fine sheen of sweat coated you both, the laundromat hot during the late summer night.

“You’re so tight.” She chuckled again, “Are you sure you can handle another?”

“Yes,”

“Yes what, pet?”

“Yes… Mommy.”

She was conditioning you with her words, and that much was clear, but you didn’t seem to care. This stranger had sauntered into your place of work and now had you under her full command with a few simple touches and an effective edging technique.

Another finger pushed into you, and you started to push down further into her. You weren’t sure what she saw in you that made her approach you like this. It had to be more than the novel, plenty of people indulged in smut. Maybe it was the desperation- your need to please in the most mundane of situations.

“Good girl,” she growled against the small of your neck, finally pulling her fingers from your swollen lips. You missed their taste, their feel against your tongue. “I’m sure you can handle a third, you desperate little slut.”

“I can,” You stuttered, tightening around her as she did just as promised. She flexed them inside you, drawing a whorish moan from the back of your throat. The woman started to pump slowly, at first, in and out of you until you felt something build in your core.

You hugged her close, the scratchy fabric of her bra pressing against your nipples, drawing them to points with their expert pressure. The sensation was phenomenal, something you never wanted to end. You hugged her close, your nails digging into the warm expanse of her back.

“Ask nicely, sweet girl.” She growled in your ear.

“Can I please cum?” You clenched your eyes shut, she quickened her pace, the word came out broken, but you didn’t care if you sounded like you were pleading, you absolutely were. “please. I’ll do anything.”

You could feel her smile against your shoulder “Go on, slut. Cum all over Mommy’s fingers.”

Her declaration was all you needed to finally give in to her attentive movements. The feeling that was building so deliciously in your core finally released in the most mind-boggling orgasm you had ever had. You silenced your own scream in her shoulder, but it could only do so much. You were thankful it was just the two of you in here, or your shame may have overtaken you.

She continued to pump in and out of you with her fingers, flexing and curling them expertly as you rode out your climax. You were shaking against her, nearly crying into the small of her neck when she pulled out of you entirely, wiping the slick on her fingers against your thighs.

Perhaps too kindly, she let you breathe against her for a moment, catching your bearings, her hand dragging against your bare back with a comforting amount of pressure. She was proud of herself, that much was clear in her movements. She knew in that moment that she was the best you had ever had; quite possibly the one person who you’d compare all the rest to.

The washer let out an unceremonious beep that had you chuckling, finally pulling back enough to see the woman’s face, shocked to see a bit of admiration behind her eyes. She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at you.

“Hm,” she hummed, giving you a dazzlingly genuine smile. “I guess the spin cycle is over.”

[snowdice]

Envisage a Better Place to Sleep, Virgil! (Part 2) [Part of the Envisage Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Roman & Virgil

Characters: Roman, Virgil

Summary: A collection of mini fics detailing all of the times Roman has found Virgil… sleeping in odd places after moving in together.

Chapter Summary: Virgil goes from best to worst roommate in a matter of seconds.

Notes: Superhero AU, Fluff, Inappropriate Sleeping Places

This takes place after Best Laid Plans and is part of the Labeled Universe.

When Roman returned to the apartment from his superhero exploits, he was exhausted. He’d had to run all over the city because a villain had released a flock of robotic murder birds, and Roman had had to catch all of them before they achieved their purpose. It had been like a city-wide game of Duck Hunt, except Roman had been using his fists instead of a gun and the half a dozen police officers wearing tactical gear took the role of the dog, scaring the birds out into the open, and then picking up the pieces after Roman took them down.

It was now 3am and Roman had class at 8:30am. Yet, he knew if he collapsed into bed right now, he’d be in for a mega migraine in the morning. He’d burned far too many calories and, even though he didn’t even feel hungry at this point, he could feel the effects on his body already. If he slept for 4 hours, he’d pay for it.

So, he forced himself to walk to the kitchen and flip on the lights. He was about to grab one of those horrible, but necessary, energy bars his moms always made sure he had, but then saw a note on the counter.

Calorie enriched mac and cheese in fridge. Blue Tupperware.

-Virgil

“Fucking, bless you, Virgil,” Roman mumbled to himself, turning to the fridge. It was nice to be roommates with someone who knew about his superhero work. The Tupperware container was right there as promised, and Virgil had even put it in one of the microwave safe bowls, so Roman popped off the lid and put it in the microwave. When stirring it halfway through, he noticed there was even bacon in it. Virgil got the best roommate reward tonight.

When the food was warm, he grabbed it and took it to the living room. He fell heavily onto the couch. The couch grunted in surprise.

Roman was on his feet in a second, the fork in his hand going flying, though he managed to keep a grip on the bowl of food. He was even more freaked out when he noticed he had not, in fact, sat on someone. No one was on the couch.

“Uh…” he said, stumped.

But then there was the sound of movement and suddenly dark eyes were peering up at him from the floor.

“You’re under the couch?!” Roman shrieked. There was some space under the couch, enough that he’d thought of getting one of those rolling storage compartment for under it, but there wasn’t that much space. “I didn’t even think you could fit under there!”

Virgil grunted. “Barely.”

“Why do you do these things to me?” Roman bemoaned as his heartrate started to slowly calm. He found he wasn’t tired anymore.

“Why don’t you eat at the kitchen table?” Virgil returned, wiggling back into his place under the couch.

“You are the worst roommate ever!” Roman declared.

“Just eat your mac and cheese, Prince Dumbass,” came from the monster under the couch.

Roman just sighed and picked his fork up from the floor. He considered going to get another, but then shrugged. He was a bit more cautious when sitting on the couch this time and did not get a sound of protest.

He ended up falling asleep on the top of the couch minutes after finishing his bowl of macaroni while his roommate slept below.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

[dollsonmain]

More long long work blather, because whatever, you get cuts.

So the storage situation, her over-ordering things, AND there being too many kinds of things is getting irritating. It's like trying to organize my basement.

So, here's the current layout, not at all to scale.

Green are shelves of stuff, both food and non-food though mostly food. I won't bore you with how it's all set up. The organization there by category is satisfying enough, but there's too much product, too varied product, and it's sloppy. There should be a little more green surrounding the bull pit and there are more short green ones in front of the bull pit, but it's already fussy.

Nothing more can be put in front of the bull pit because there are glass cases there with the pipes and things. I forgot to put it, but there's another locked case by freezer 3 with more pipes and things.

Blue are coolers. I missed the micro fridge that's near 7, and there's a small hand sink in there, too.

1 was non-alocholic drinks but she moved some of the alcoholic drinks into that cooler last week, which I think was a bad idea. A better solution to there being too much stuff in the beer cave would be to order less stuff.

2 is "the beer cave" which customers are allowed to go into, though they shouldn't be because everything is crammed in there really sloppy and there's a risk of customers knocking stuff over onto themselves and getting hurt. That's how big multipacks of beer are made available to customers, though now many of them are in the lower parts of the original beer cave doors.

3 is the freezer with the deli meat stuff in it. Since it opens from the top, the wall space there is not being used.

4 is the ice machine which customers should not touch, and 5 is the bags of ice customers can take.

6 is another top-loading freezer with ice cream in it.

7 is both a standing cooler with stuff like lunchables and pre-packed sandwiches in it, and then a long cooler that runs under the countertop which is where deli sandwiches are.

The big, unmarked rectangles and stuff across the front of the store are counter tops where the soda, coffee, slushies, and hot food are, the atm, and the lottery machine.

Yellow are storage. All of the sodas and deli stuff get put into the cooler (1), nothing is organized, and nothing is easy to get to. Returns and damaged product are also in there.

Beer cave is also cold storage, but only beer and things like hard lemonade go in there.

O is the office, and the grey rectangle near O is the big sink. There are lots of other machines in there like the water heater and soda fountain syrup set up, etc., and then one small shelf for supplies like trash bags, ice bags, etc.

B is the bathroom. ? is probably another bathroom but I don't actually know. Maybe it's already being used as storage but I've never been in there to get anything so it's probably just an unused bathroom.

-

So, if I had the money and the go ahead to do whatever I wanted with the store.....

tl:dr I would have less shit on the sales floor and a lot more dry storage, a less is more set up.

First I would reduce the variety of things we have. That seems counterintuitive when you're considering customers might want all those things. They do, sometimes, but there's no room. Something has to give.

We would actually monitor which flavors of, say, bagged mini donuts actually sell and which really don't, and only order the big sellers, for example. That would disappoint a few customers, but they'd be ok.

I'd put all the alcoholic beverages back in one area (2) and order less.

I would gut the ?bathroom, remove the door and wall to improve air flow, and move the ice maker and deli freezer in there. If there's room, I'd also add a small counter space and a sink so that deli sandwiches were made THERE instead of on a tiny 6in by 1ft shelf on the mini fridge in the bull pit because that's annoying. The top of the mini fridge is angled because there's a lift-up door. It's hard to work, there, and customers constantly interrupt so whomever is making sandwiches should be left alone. Under the counter space I'd add a mini fridge or two to keep the cheese in, and wall shelves for the deli bread. Keep it all together and not cause condensation in the bread bags.

Having a dedicated sandwich making place would also make it easier to keep that space CLEAN because there wouldn't be people coming in and out all of the time and that area isn't exposed to customers at all.

Considering we're only actually using half the deli freezer as it is and the other half is full of ice build up and product that is unsellable, it could be replaced with a smaller one, maybe a proper deep-freeze with a lift-up door that seals better and can also be used as work space if needed.

_Those bathrooms may be larger or smaller than I think they are. I've never been in either room, and B and ? could be swapped, I don't really care which is the bathroom.

I'd rearrange the sales floor a lot and build another wall, turning a segment of the store space (which in reality wouldn't be that big.... this is not to scale like I said) into dry storage space and add an employees only sign to that door because people will come in and beeline for that hallway assuming that's where the public bathroom is.

The angled door makes sure we can still see into that corner, and that is where I would put big things that are difficult to steal anyway, like the firewood and bags of ice.

I'd also add a saloon door with an employees only sign to the other hallway because they do the same thing over there and I have to chase them down, and omit the yellow storage behind there completely since that's the path service people like plumbers would have to take if there were a problem with the sink or water heater, etc. and should be clear, or at least I'd instead put some shallow shelving that's meant for only small dry goods like the snack cakes, or store supplies. Right now it's head-high stacks of tallboy cans and it makes me nervous.

Lots of dry storage would let us have better looking, more organized shelves on the floor because it wouldn't need to be severely overstuffed just to get product out of boxes that also are left all around the sales floor.

I'd reduce the wine from 4 rows to 1. They're just... Not selling. I mean, a few are or else I wouldn't be constantly refilling those few, and with good inventory management and sales tracking, we'd only buy those.

I'd omit the big locked case that was by freezer 3 completely. I've only gotten into that case one time, and have only ever seen another employee need to get in there one time. Maybe it's more busy at other times, I don't know.

We have too many varieties of vapes, CBD, Kratom, etc. products. One locked case, the countertop displays that only open from the register side, and the "showcases" should be sufficient. Since those don't scan, there's no good inventory or sales tracking, and with good sales tracking, only what sells would be ordered.

Notice a trend?

Then I'd use the wall where the freezer was for light bags like candy up to eye level, small snacks, etc. with some shallow shelves lower down for various sweet food products like cookies, and put the toys in a bin on the ground level where kids can see them instead of up on the top.

I'd get rid of some of the hot food machines because they're barely used. There's a hot dog roller that I've only seen food in once, a popcorn machine that's never had popcorn in it, a pizza spinner thing that I have sold a couple slices from but we could just not, a giant pretzel spinner but you can't have those pretzels, you have to ask for them out of the cold food case where the deli sandwiches are and they're pre-packed, so we could just put a mini cold case out there with the pretzels in it, or put a big countertop one and put some of the deli stuff in it, OR use that space for room-temp pastries and local stuff so we could clear off a little of the counter around the bullpit which would give us more working space and a much better view of the store.

Manager tends to do computer work sitting on one chair with the laptop on another chair, hiding behind the tall cigarette case in the center of the bull pit and the tops of the showcases are also glass so we can't put anything heavy there, which means not being able to do a lot of work, there.

......

I would put a fridge case out back where expiring product could be placed for people to come take for free.

There's probably more stuff that I'm forgetting, but I'm getting hungry and do tend to lose focus when I'm hungry.

[starsfic]

prompt to continue the azure/wukong storyline

azures longing turns into something sharper; obsession.

when MK has a small fight with wukong’s husband azure’s mind randomly decides that “qi xiaotian is my son and this bastard is his kidnapper.”

maybe he puts a love potion into food he knows wukong likes and sent it home w/MK unknowingly. poor MK has to watch his baba get delirious and tired, eyes blown out leaning over the table mumbling azures name as the powerful potion kicks in

So I presume this is for the Art School AU. Unfortunately, the au is no magic. So, instead, you get this!

The news nearly made Azure fall over.

“Wukong is alive?!” He gripped the table tight, trying to steady himself, unsure of how to react to the news he had just been presented with. Some part of him screamed in anger- Wukong and his successor was the biggest challenge against his campaign. The other part of him, the weak part that he had given away so many centuries ago, screamed in joy.

No matter what, he could not silence that weak part of himself.

“Well, yes. The boy-” Of course, of course, it was Qi Xiaotian. Azure had found it too easy to give a part of that weakness to him- they both loved too easily. “And Macaque.” Also of course. “They managed to release him.”

“I…” Wait. He barely managed a chuckle, straightening. Oh, he was an idiot. He had forgotten what he had done, before he had left for the ridge. A simple backup plan. “They’re hiding out at the mountain.”

“Yes, of course they are, but what is so amusing?” Yellowtusk said. “I have not heard you laugh like that before.” He sounded tense, as if worried reality would begin to break again.

“Just a backup plan.” Azure straightened. “Wukong will not be an issue.”

Peng cackled as Yellowtusk's eyes went wide.

"You poisoned him?"

-_-

"Alright," Wukong clapped his hands together. Everything was going great! The plan was fully hammered out and everyone was on the same page. "Before we get to training, who wants snacks?"

Hands went up. Even Nezha, who he figured would be furious at the pause, even raised his hands.

"Yeah, I figured." Wukong chuckled. "I-"

"I got them!" Qi Xiaotian bounced up to his feet and zoomed into the kitchen. Immediately, noises began in the kitchen. Hopefully, Xiaotian was breaking into the cabinets designated for him and the others, not the giant fruit storage pantry.

As the others drifted around, Wukong turned to the art. His heart ached, just for a second, at the little drawn Camel Ridge Trio getting sucked into the scroll. He bit it back. Nobody needed him getting cold feet.

Even if he had questions.

-_-

“No. Nothing like that.” Azure had too many close calls with poison to ever use it. Besides, he didn’t want to kill Wukong, no matter what his anger claimed. “A moment of weakness, I admit.”

Yellowtusk’s eyes narrowed. “Not poison.” he said, slowly. “Something else.”

-_-

"Need some help?"

Xiaotian glanced back over his shoulder in time to see Pigsy press the pause button on the microwave. "Always." he said, barely fighting back a massive grin.

Son. Pigsy, for the first time Xiaotian could remember, had called him "son".

He knew Pigsy and Tang both viewed him as a son. He knew it. Too many stories had been told of Tnag calling himself Xiaotian's father figure from Pigsy gushing about him to his relatives. But it was the first time Xiaotian had ever heard it out loud.

Soon enough, a wide array of snacks was on the tray. "Need anything else?" Pigsy asked. "I was thinking water."

"Yeah, but the monkeys also make this really great peach juice. I'll grab it."

"Got it!" Pigsy picked up the tray and marched out.

-_-

There had been food in the weird cold box. Azure had not stayed long, the little vial burning in his pocket.

Too many solid things. Too much of a risk someone else would drink from that jug.

-_-

Xiaotian opened the fridge to grab the jug of peach juice and paused. An open peach yogurt was on the top shelf, right next to the others. It was something Xiaotian had found that Wukong had liked with great delight. Although, he had never seen his mentor not finish one . Even weirder, it looked completely full, as if Wukong had opened it, stirred it, and just set it back.

"Hey, Monkey King?"

His mentor's voice raised over the talking in the next room. "Yeah, bud?"

Xiaotian poked his head out, showing the opened yogurt. "Do you wanna finish this yogurt?"

Wukong raised a brow. "Huh. Didn't know I had that in there." He seemed worried for a second before shaking his head. 'Eh, probably forgot. Sure, bud!"

"Okay!" Xiaotian pulled out a spoon, set the yogurt on the other tray, and walked in with the jug and the rest of the snacks. The moment he set the tray down, Wukong grabbed the yogurt. He eyed it, looking like he was wondering if it was off. "I did come out of the blue," he suggested. "Maybe you didn't get to touch it?"

Wukong hummed. "Yeah." He scooped up a good dollop and bit down. He hummed. "Tastes good!"

-_-

The potion had slipped from the vial easily and, with a few stirs, had disappeared. Azure had set the yogurt back without another word and had left the small cottage.

Something slammed down. “You gave him a love potion?!” Yellowtusk bellowed.

“You gave him a love potion?!” Peng squawked before bursting into laughter. Their chuckles died down when a heavy jug full of wine sailed at their head.

“That is not okay!” Admittedly, Azure should’ve kept in mind how the others would react. Yellowtusk was the most sensitive to the idea. The number of times Wukong or DBK or even himself nearly got love potioned and had to be saved by Yellowtusk was ridiculous. “Why would you do that to him?!”

-_-

“Hey…Wukong? You okay there, bud?”

It was Macaque who first noticed. Of course it was, because Xiaotian was an idiot. His mentor looked weirdly pale, setting down the yogurt. Or, tried to set down the yogurt. It more fell out of his hand.

“Wukong!” Nezha actually sounded panicked, gripping his shoulders as the golden monkey slumped over. From where he sat, Xiaotian could see how his pupils had dilated. The lighter yellow was drowning out the gold. “What’s wrong?!”

“I…Azure…?” The words were slurred, Wukong pitching forward. Suddenly Macaque was there, leaning him back. “Where’s Azure…?” The slurred voice sounded distressed.

“He’s not here.” Nezha said, sounding like he was trying to be comforting. “He can’t get to you, Wukong, you’re safe.” If it was meant to be comforting, it didn’t work, based on the tears welling up.

“What’s wrong?” Xiaojiao said, grabbing Pigsy’s hand. She squeezed it as distress clouded her eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know!” Xiaotian nearly whined, meeting his mentor’s clouded eyes.

Were they…pink?

-_-

“I just want to be happy with him.”

[mariacallous]

Our family’s approach to Yom Kippur break fast is a Southern one. Many North Americans associate this feast with an array of sweet kugels, bagels with all of the accoutrements, rugelach in every flavor, blintzes and maybe a special cake or two. Chances are you have never seen a spread filled with egg casserole, cream cheese grits and homemade biscuits. 

Before the early 1900s, my family had not either. How did this menu come to be for a half-Sephardi, half-Ashkenazi Jewish family? It’s a funny story.

I recently recovered my great-grandpa’s autobiography that had been stowed away in storage. He detailed the lengths that it would take to acquire kosher food in Georgia in the early 20th century. Quick synopsis: It required special connections and effort to secure the holiday food necessities from the certified grocer. The “good stuff” was reserved for the residents of Atlanta, Augusta and Savannah, while little was set aside for small town Jewish families. My family was one of the latter so we had no choice but to incorporate ingredients that were more accessible into our meal planning. Eggs, grits and flour were much easier to secure than specialty meats. Thus, Southern-style cuisine became intertwined with our family meals and traditions.

All of this to say that I’ve grown accustomed to this style of break fast. I prefer it to the regretful annual reminder that my stomach is not meant to digest mounds of mayonnaise-laden proteins or seconds of sugar immediately after 24 hours without. Simple, flavorful and easily digestible foods are the strength and strategy in our Southern-inspired menu.  

The hearty pi��ce de résistance of our table is my mom’s egg casserole. It’s silky, cheesy and smells amazing coming out of the oven. Egg casserole can be made in advance; refrigerate overnight and forget it until an hour before sunset.

When going in for the bake, know that the egg mixture will be settled so the ratio of bread to egg mixture will look skewed. It’s not. The “casserole” bakes like a souffle, so the egg mixture will rise and create a pillowy texture to complement the crusty bits of challah that are exposed at the top.

Feel free to modify this recipe to use any kind of bread (i.e. wholewheat, gluten-free, sourdough, etc.), milk instead of half-and-half or a different sharp cheese (Gruyere or Manchego would be nice). That’s the essence of my mom’s style of Southern Jewish cooking — make it tasty, but creatively configure the ingredients to work for the specific group you’re hosting. Serve her egg casserole alongside cream cheese grits, thick-cut biscuits plus a little bit of fruit and not only will you be covered for the holiday, you’ll get a taste of the lesser known tradition that we hold so dear.

Notes: 

The casserole needs to chill in the fridge for a couple of hours, or overnight, before baking.

 Egg casserole can be made in advance; refrigerate overnight and forget it until an hour before sunset.

[jaijaitbinks]

Just had the mental image of Genos and Saitama making love in a nest of pillows and blankets just because it was super comfy and "Why not?"

Like it's one of those lazy days Saitama just wants to have. Doesn't want to get up if he doesn't have to, but not in the way of wanting to curl up a disappear. Just pure, comfortable, and slightly playful laziness. But that day was also one of those days were Genos couldn't sit still. He wanted to move, he wanted to do something, but the fridge was full, the chores were already done (plus, disturbing Saitama with cleaning around the house while he's trying to laze about and nap is the last tuing he wants to do), and Saitama had insisted Genos took the last few days off from fighting monsters he wasn't called to deal with. (This was a conversation they had the week before, brought up by Saitama begause he recognized Genos unhealthily pushing himself. Genos, along with reluctantly accepting the deal, promised he wouldn't push himself too hard anymore.)

After the 4th snack Genos made for him, Saitama finally acknowledges his hyperactivity and asks him if he wants to build a pillow and blankets nest on the futons. Genos feels a lot towards the question. There's bittersweet feelings of nostalgia, there's confusion, excitement, determination, affection—he agrees, though he doesn't fully understand why Saitama brought the idea up.

So, Saitama gets up (only slightly pouting over the fact he has to move from his comfortable spot), and they get to work. Genos goes digging through the storage closet for more pillows and blankets, Saitama brings both futons side-by-side for maximum width, they're placing and moving pillows and blankets for a more optimal shape. And finally, as the last piece, Genos keeps one of their blankets away so when Saitama lays down in it, he can place the blanket on top of him.

But, as Saitama starts settling in, pleased with the plushness and softness of the nest, he turns to Genos. He lays down on his back and makes a grabbing gesture towards the cyborg. Once again confused but happy to comply, he carefully kneels into the nest, setting the blanket to the side and stradling Saitama. The bald man pulls him down and turns with him in his arms, embracing him in a very affectionate cuddle.

"You move too much," he murmurs, smiling warmly as the sleepiness starts to set in. Steam leaves Genos' shoulders as he realizes why Saitama had them do this.

"I apologize for the inconvenience," he says, holding Saitama closer. "I... don't know why I'm like this today."

Saitama pulls his head away to give him a look. "How are you feeling?"

Genos sighs. He feels a little bad now, for making Saitama move so much on his lazy day for his sake and still not relaxing. "I feel like... I'm being unproductive. It's unnerving to feel like I could be doing something right now but having nothing to do."

Oddly enough, Saitama gets the feeling. He felt like that everyday he wasn't employed, or the days he had prior training. It almost always felt like he was just wasting his life away, letting his depression consume him and doing absolutely nothing at home instead of, say, getting a stable job or learning something useful.

But he also knows that, in Genos' case, it's (mostly) because old habits die hard. The poor borg spent 4 years running around constantly, looking for that Mad cyborg and kicking monster ass–always moving, always fighting. And the key, he found out throughout the time he spent with Genos, is to keep him moving. Get him to run, get him to clean.

And Saitama gets an idea.

"Would it help if I..." he says, grunting as he pulled away from the cyborg to move them—Genos on his back now and Saitama straddling him. Genos, feeling Saitama lean forward a press his palms against his metal breastplates, goes wide-eyed, steam slowly trickling from his shoulders. "Was that something for you to do?"

Genos gawks at him, but once again, his body happily moves, hands falling on the Saitama's hips like it was second nature. When his brain catches up with the situation, he finds himself falling more in love. He feels an unbreakable amount of appreciation for him, unbridled adoration and infatuation, because Saitama is offering a solution he knows he does not need to offer.

"I believe it would," he murmurs, letting his fingers slide under his boyfriend's shirt. "May I, sensei?"

"If it keeps you moving," he smirks, "do it."

So Genos does anything that "keeps him moving," which Saitama realizes later that that was a slightly bad idea to tell him to do. They go for a while, gradually shifting from "fucking" and more so "making love", gentle and sweet and comfortable in that nest of blankets and pillows that've grown disheveled (though, Saitama is disappointed that they're all covered in sweat and... other things now). And even after they're spent, Genos goes on to cuddle him close and press kisses wherever he sees a free spot every few seconds.

[tumblhurgoyf]

jalapeno cream cheese ice cream

this recipe is kind of cobbled together from a couple other recipes, notable these two

I just mixed a second batch of the base and made some changes so I won’t know how it compares to the first time until at least tomorrow, but this is mostly for me to reference later

ingredients

1 cup heavy cream 1 cup whole milk 1/4 cup white sugar (the first time I did it this was 1/2 cup white sugar and no brown sugar or molasses) 1/8 cup brown sugar 1/8 cup molasses 2 room temperature eggs 1 or 2 jalapenos, diced (first time I used two I think, second time just one) seeds of jalapenos, wrapped in a coffee filter tied shut with butcher’s twine (the first time I just discarded the seeds and didn’t try to get any heat from them into the mixture) 8 oz cream cheese, cubed and close to room temperature 1 tsp lemon juice (I don’t think I used this the first time around) 2 tsp vanilla extract optional green food coloring (with the molasses and brown sugar this didn’t make things look green really, kind of just made the brown color uglier. I’d omit this if using the brown sugar and molasses in the future)

also have an ice bath handy for the mixture after it comes off the heat

process

put the cream and milk in a large sauce pan and bring up to a very low heat. I set my stove to 2 (out of 10) and that works well; the recipes linked above mention a high temp of I think 175 at most. mix in the sugars and molasses and stir until they dissolve

whisk the two eggs (yolk and all) into a bowl and then whisk in a small amount of the heated mixture, like 1/4 cup tops. we need to incorporate the eggs without cooking them and this helps start to bring their temp up. then whisk that all back into the sauce pan

you really can’t go wrong by keeping the heat really low and stirring/whisking this stuff constantly. not whisking to like beat it into a foam or something, just keeping it moving constantly

now you toss in the jalapenos, packet of seeds, and cream cheese. keep stirring and mash up that cream cheese. I was trying to get the cream cheese to dissolve completely but the best I got was tiny chunks about the size of the diced jalapeno

remove from the heat, pour into your bowl for storage and put it in the ice bath, stirring to help cool it faster, before removing it from the ice bath. at this point you add the lemon juice, vanilla extract, and food coloring if desired. cover it with aluminum foil or wax paper, making sure the cover just touches the top of the mixture, then stick it in the fridge at least over night, probably more like 24 hours. then mix it up in your preferred ice cream maker. I’ve got the KitchenAide stand mixer bowl for ice cream and that works pretty damn well despite this not really being the sort of ice cream recipe that’s recommended for that attachment

notes

the flavor is slightly sweet with a nice fresh quality from the peppers that contrasts well with the cream cheese. I’ve tried a pepper bacon jam as topping but that’s too smokey for me, it was better without it. this time around I hope to try a plain hot pepper jam along with it. this is an off the beaten path sort of ice cream but it’s honestly quite better than I expected, hence I’m making it a second time

I’ll try to remember to reblog this or edit it with an update on if I prefer version 1 or 2 more, but the parentheticals on the ingredients list should allow you to figure out the first iteration of it as well. in short, don’t include the pepper seeds, use all white sugar instead of the brown sugar and molasses, and don’t include lemon juice, but otherwise follow the recipe as written

oh yeah and because it’s kind of relevant to the recipes I’ve been looking into lately, the sodium content for the entire roughly 3 cups of mixture (which usually fluffs up to about 2 pints of ice cream) is about 205 mg. So that’s about 50 mg of sodium per cup of ice cream, anywhere from half to a fifth of what a lot of typical ice creams I eat have

[kintatsujo]

It's interesting to me how different types of lists and notes help my different problems and how I like, have to identify those issues as separate sometimes in order to solve them

Keeping a to do list on my phone doesn't work because the transient and impermanent nature of digital storage ironically often means it sits in there for a bazillion years and nothing actually gets done, because I both have very little sense of when it got put on the list and staring at a habit app slowly go from green to red just stresses me out.

Keeping a day to day work journal, on the other hand, means that I can add things I DID do so that if I didn't do something on that day's list I often don't feel as bad about having to move it forward.

It also means that I can flip back and check when I did things like paying bills, and it's helpful to keep things like what I got in the mail and what we had for dinner in that journal. I dedicate one page of the journal to a single day and this keeps me from overloading myself (more recently I've been using the backs of pages for notes when people tell me shit instead of using it for another day and that's also helpful to be able to check back on.)

But it doesn't work for tracking the state of perishables in my fridge because I apparently need that info out where I can see it all the time and usually it's fine for things like paid bills to be out of sight out of mind. I can't put the perishables in an archive because that's a continuous Now concern.

Likewise it DOES help to keep my running grocery list on my phone because I can forget about getting light bulbs once I've got them in the house. It also helps to keep permanent lists of people's restaurant preferences on my phone so I do that too. (I have backups elsewhere but keeping it on my phone means I have it on hand whenever.)

But none of this works for longterm projects (such as home improvement or art projects).

For longterm projects, I don't always know when I'm going to be able to work on them on a particular day, and tracking progress on them would get lost in the shuffle if the only place I kept track of it was in my usual daily journal.

So I have my big ass portfolio binder and I keep track of longterm life stuff in there (there are also folders specifically to keep bills, checks deposited through mobile, and documentation I need to have on hand for a while). And the portfolio binder comes with me to both work and to people's houses, it lives in my work bag and I use it to plan everything before that stuff gets filtered out to the places it has to go.

I ALSO keep a yearly planner in that binder and use it to further keep track of the bills, my schedule at work, and my period, because it's easier to see what my body is doing if I can look at it on the yearly overview pages.

And on top of that there's a handful of lists in there to pull from if I'm having a "what the fuck IS the routine supposed to look like" day at work; procedures and things that I'd forget if I let them fade into monotony written in the back of the planner notes.

My webcomic has its own portfolio and different projects get dedicated notebooks (but not sketchbooks which is why having a copier is so essential)

Also I make worksheets for art work now lol

I should probably be on adhd medication tbh bc when I lay it all out like this it's sort of a full time job just keeping my own head on straight.

[chaoxfix]

I posted 3,591 times in 2022

That's 3,591 more posts than 2021!

1,017 posts created (28%)

2,574 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chaoxfix

@studioboner

@gayemeralds

@passionfruitbowls

@themetalvirus

I tagged 1,872 of my posts in 2022

Only 48% of my posts had no tags

#sonic frontiers spoilers - 52 posts

#ml spoilers - 31 posts

#chaoxfix - 31 posts

#sonic the hedgehog - 19 posts

#selfref - 15 posts

#tails the fox - 13 posts

#<3 - 12 posts

#miles tails prower - 12 posts

#self rec - 11 posts

#so cute - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

had a dream that if enough day/night cycles have passed, hermit koco won’t let you power up again until you take a nap, because “all the speed and rings in the world won’t help if you’re too exhausted to use them”

then he watched over sonic as he slept through the night, chatting with any digitized friend who stopped by

…a guy could write a fic about that, you know.

262 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

#4

can’t believe it’s canon that the games are just based off of the characters ‘real life’ adventures

guys this legit explains weird narrative discrepancies in each game, where different POVs don’t line up. they just interviewed different characters who told biased perspectives of events.

386 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#3

i’m allergic to digital art (or rather my tablet is allergic to me) but i hope u like it! @tsaikonautz same drawing different style challenge

391 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

#2

i now have a hc that sonic does have an apartment in station square but he basically never sleeps there, maybe once a month

he instead uses it as a storage shed for all of the merch people make of him

bc whats he gonna do, turn down a really cool mural the city made in his honor? no. hes gonna put that shit up in his living room. his friends call him egotistical but jokes on them, he looks cool as hell.

he also has

a freezer full of sonic popsicles. the fucked up ones. u know. (ty @sketchjii for reminding me these exist)

a fridge full of sports drinks with his face on the label. some officially sponsored, some knockoffs with 'socin the hengehog', who is a slightly lighter blue hedgehog. he thinks its hilarious

boxes upon boxes of frozen chili dogs, from every brand deal he's ever done who promised him a lifetime supply and are starting to sweat from making good on it

hoodies for humans that imitate his look (he loves the ones with fake ears and fake gloves. they look fucking hilarious on top of his own ears and gloves)

every variation of sonic plushie ever made. especially the deformed looking ones. the ugly ones are usually from knuckles. ("got you this. its like looking in a mirror right?" "hilarious.")

plushies of all his friends

a super sonic shower curtain from a then-6 year old tails to 'make him feel brave while taking a bath! :D'

giant fuzzy slippers that are meant to look like his shoes

his fridge door has drawings from charmy, cream, and some from tails when he was little(r)

hes got a bookcase with a bunch of books. some haunted. some not. a few scrapbooks mixed in, old textbooks tails read when he was a kid and was gonna toss out but has a lot of funny notes in the margins

he also has a trophy case to hold his many sonic & mario olympic games trophies

last i'll mention is he's even got a little eggman matryoshka doll that sits on his fridge. he just thinks its funny

if he ever dies young itll be a really fun museum exhibit. he gives one (1) apartment tour to some photographer who's way out of his depth but it's honestly kinda funny how nonchalant sonic is about all the merch of himself he collects

428 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“love is stored in the child i adopted while i was also a child”

441 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[moxiemaemaple]

353535

Woke up and did some counseling. I love that job…

Afterwards I needed some money. I can't get my apartment finished with out the bucks. I started up working a shift at Gopostal and Crow gave me a call. Invited me to the scarpyard so I showed up. Should have stayed where I was… Felt like I was just out in the sun for the same amount of time, still alone but instead stuck with mentally dull work. I enjoy driving and getting to see places. I felt like I was in prison in that scrapyard, isolating in some corner of the yard. My own doing to a degree. Yay being on the spectrum and people suck!

Everyone is collecting candy for the spooky season and a lot of work places hand out candies you can use as tokens to get collectibles. Instantly I was turned off from the whole thing…

Back in my old city collecting things was a huge thing for people, myself included. One time, closer to xmas this jewelry place was opening up and putting some exclusive watches up for sale. At the time I was seriously depressed, lost all my friends, bullied at work, bullied everywhere actually… I was a bit dululu and figured I'd start collecting things to give to someone for xmas, an ex. He hates me so I don't know what I was thinking, just how lonely I was honestly. Anyways, went and skipped a work thing I was suppose to be at to instead stand in this watch release line for an hour. Yes. An hour.

I wasn't even sure how I'd give them the watch but blew thousands. As xmas got closer I plotted all the methods of giving this ex some gifts. You see, the watch wasn't all I had. All summer I worked, not as a counselor but farming…in the hills. I grew, harvested and dried so much weed. Collected a lot. I don't know why I decided grow hillsides, cooping I guess. Never felt like I was wanted in the city. People loved saying awful things about me in this place.

So here I was looking to rent storage units. Expensive. Fill one up with weed and the watch at the top. I planned to text him the GPS of the storage unit and the code, 353535 to open it. A deep gift of 'look at the time passed'. I dropped the idea though, fear…fear the weed would trace back to me. Fear of maybe the clear rejection I was already facing. A whole storage unit filled in my name? If he decided he could just fuck me with a cop call. Ironic really when you see how I got where I am now. Weed always gets me into shit.

I took all the weed up to this lake over the course of days and dumped it…

Fear stopped me from also trying to sell it and make some money. Funny that huh.

In the end I was going to give the watch to someone else. Someone I ended up trying to move on with. Who than cheated on me as soon as we started dating a week before xmas. So. Fuck watches. Fuck collectibles.

Fuck grinding for absolutely nothing in the end.

No one ever appreciates the efforts I've ever invested into stuff over the years. Now I wear the watch.

I wont waste time anymore doing that grind shit. No one ever fucking worked to the bone for me so I'm going to stop doing it for every one else. Today just got me hard in my feels. Reminded me how many just care about money, material, crap. Fucking junk some wanna be gangster will steal when they see it on your persons. Rather stay home. I got my new fridge and stove installed. No toilet hooked up yet, been having to go to restaurants to use the washroom. Soon! Soon…I'll have my own home.

No one can ruin that for me this time.

[cobi-4056]

00 - a building in the middle of the city

My grandfather bought a whole building so his children and their families could live in the same space. I didn’t ever live there, I was born and raised in another city entirely. I don’t know or understand the place where my uncles, aunts and cousins live. My idea of their city is confined to that building and the homes they moved to after my grandparents died.

The entrance to the building was huge. An intimidating, rusted white metal garage door with spiral handles. Upon entering, I would always run as far into the building as possible: before reaching any doors, you had to go through a long and dark hallway. The floor was white, always dirty with wheel tracks, and it led to the small parking lot my family would try to fit into. By this point, the sounds from the city outside would become quieter and blend into the even quieter home my family lived in.

The parking lot wasn’t the only thing in the first floor.  The laundry room was there too, but I never really saw it being used. My grandma would insist on washing everyone’s clothes by hand, right by the garden she had grown on the second floor. This meant that the laundry room was used as a storage room instead, and that I would only see its inside when someone was looking for something they didn’t always need to see. If you could find a way to squeeze through the cars on this floor, you would get to the thin concrete stairs that ended with an old, rotten wooden door. There wasn’t ever a smell that came with it, but I always avoided touching it so I wouldn’t have to feel my fingers sticking to the handle. The door had a tiny roof on top of it, but it didn’t lead to a covered room. Instead, it only acted as a continuation to the small wall where my grandma had planted a row of different plants. I wish I could remember which ones exactly, but the only thing that comes to mind are the thin, bright red peppers she used to make her own hot sauce.

Beside the garden, there was a concrete structure where she would wash everyone’s clothes. This was really close to the strings that she used to dry them, too, so you had to dodge the wet shirts and coats that wanted to get into your face. When she got sick, the clothes hanging on the string would gradually become less and less, until there was no one to wash them anymore.

Anyway, the first floor went on. The living room wasn’t separated from this space by a door – the thing that let you know that this wasn’t the same room anymore was the metal roof that covered it and the kitchen. I think the living room wasn’t meant to be a living room when they first moved into the building because it was way too narrow to fit two couches, a TV and a radio. To make it even stuffier, there were two huge grinders that my grandparents used to make their own grounded beef and their own quesillo. This is where the kitchen began – there were two ovens stacked on top of each other and a cheese press stuck in the last corner they had any space to fit it.

The kitchen continued after what felt like the widest door ever. This one was old, too, but it never became as sticky as the entrance. Inside the kitchen, there was a huge table where a lot of my family would sit. To give you an idea of how big it was, my grandparents had 8 children (maybe more, I can’t always remember my aunts and uncles), which each had at least 3 children. Of course, I never saw all of them in the same place and whenever we had a reunion me and my cousins would have to sit outside, but this was still an impressive table. The kitchen also had many cabinets and only one fridge, very far away from the small stove that had served my family for many, many years. This whole place was very dark, only ever lit at night or by the tiny stained windows that were unevenly distributed around its walls.

This small portion of the building was the space I was most acquainted with. I would spend hours and hours playing with my cousins in the hallway or by the garden. I would also complete crosswords with my grandpa while my grandma cooked us chicken or made us dessert. My mom always says that she had trouble expressing her love through words, so she would spend her whole day doing things for the family instead. I haven’t been to the building since they died and I don’t think I would like it if I did.

[mcelebrper]

Open to tops: Ideally canon characters like Sam, John, or Cas. Potentially open to OCs like other hunters. (I'm willing to swap Dean out for Sam to play as Sam being affected instead, just let me know if you'd prefer that)

Contains: Erotic hypnosis, cursed items. Potential non/dub con, open to the effects of the hypnosis including things like stepfordization, pet play, trance state, objectification, intelligence loss, change in personality, forced obedience, or more. Your character can be aware of the tape and it's effects, or they can discover it together by accident.

Scenario: While cleaning out one of John's storage sheds of relics from past hunts, a small cassette player accidentally ended up with Dean's things. Not realizing it's a cursed cassette player or where it's from, he's spent the last week listening to it often, subconsciously drawn to listening to it more and more in his free time. The tape has hypnotic effects that grow stronger the more he uses the player.

Message me to continue over private message or discord only.

Dean sat at the table having finished his dinner a short while ago, now he was just sitting enjoying the peace and quiet. After all, nothing had come up as an emergency in almost two weeks, it was nice getting a break from the constant hunts. On the table was the cassette player, and he had one headphone in his ear playing the soothing music. He hadn't He looked up as someone walked in to join him. "Hey, if you're hungry there's some leftover pasta in the fridge. What have you been up to?" He asked. Dean kept the music playing in one ear, it was calming music and wouldn't distract him from the conversation. "Have you seen any more of the little cassette players around here? I found this old player and one, I was wondering if there's any more to listen to." Dean asked. He hadn't noticed any himself but he didn't really remember where the player came from to begin with so it was hard to say where there might be more cassettes if at all.

[the-firebird69]

few things to say **** **** is one of them And you're nasty nasty **** are saying the wrong thing basically you're having them doing 'cause you're very stupid and we don't wanna like sit here and have to say this kind of stuff but boy you freaking dumb people you're insulting us we're gonna come in and kill you and you know we have cover and you don't care so good.

This camper has made out of fiberglass and it weighs quite a bit the fiberglass itself is not massively thick it's only about 1/4 inch or a little less and it works OK it's fairly sturdy and kind of reacts like any other camper if you hit it but if you hit it it cracks and it makes a big mess inside and out and it's a huge pain to fix that's one thing wrong with it the other is when you're driving along it makes a stupid noise no it's aerodynamic that's a plus and you get better mileage that's pretty much the only plus it weighs more than a regular camper about 300 pounds at this size and you have to frame the walls in and it's teeny inside and it's gross. This **** knows it's gross and once people are using for some reason we don't know why except the plastic and it's a waste of time and he's an imbecile it takes too much effort to reduce fiberglass. In this plastic everywhere and you could grab it anywhere. So we see him like trying to promote it and if someone was really kind of inspiring it he said there must be a way of stamping it he said fiberglass is no good it never has been any good they tried it and it sucked it was how do you know I said where the **** would you not know and where to get the **** away from me you're at nobody. So he said that the guy got beat up people want him out this guy next door is an idiot. Don't care if he invents campers it's a good time. We went over a few things on what materials what we could use and how we'd use it came up with a couple ideas basically the stamped metal looks the best because you can take the stamped because you can take the stamped metal and you can install an insulated board using a spline system and it's a panel and it goes in on top of your there'd be the framing member so to speak it would be like an inch wide and only half inch deep and it's really with a metal is stamped thicker and you can have a rounded front and it would attach to the front of the two halves and there would be two halves but the sides would be flat it's an enormous pain to work on rounded edges and the rounded front is perfect for something like the kitchen and people don't think of it that way gas is right there the line is shorter less of a hassle and you can check the whole thing. And it uses space it is usually not usable and you still could vent it behind it and this is a huge enormous pain okay building a camper is enormously annoying. Teenage space and you have to try and live in it that's a good idea to use space like that economically people use it for storage it's not a bad idea but why not get the stove out of the way even a fridge would fit there and it's like this bump out that's useless you can put storage under it and people do that well there wouldn't be much under it so you're wondering why put the stove there well there's a bump that goes forwards and you would fit it in there and the bump would start halfway up and it still fit and you would have a few hood and it would go out of hand and you can even vent it through the bump. So the rest of the camper you could have for seating or some storage in your kitchen in the sink and seating and TV in a bedroom instead of using it all for a kitchen and you need a bathroom of course but really they use a lot of space up front with that stupid bum and a lot of people just put a fake one and it's a wasted damn time this would be stamped metal so he was curious if it would work and if it would be strong kind of knows it would be and you welded together along the whole scene and you put some plates to connect it and really it's not needed

contd

Thor Freya

Olympus

[cookingfoodsblog]

Thanksgiving Quesadilla

Prep: 10 minutes Cook: 15 Serves - 2

This Thanksgiving, use your leftovers to make a Thanksgiving Quesadilla! We all need some ideas to use up the extra food from the big feast, and this turkey quesadilla is the solution. Skip the sandwich and use this Thanksgiving leftover recipe instead!

What’s in a Turkey Quesadilla?

We make so much food for the big feast, and we end up with soooo many leftovers. They crowd the fridge and call out to you for days, begging to be eaten. This is the perfect way to use up all that turkey and also have something really fun to eat that doesn’t make you feel like you’re eating leftovers.

Whole Wheat Tortillas: Make this dish feel a little healthier without compromising the taste.

Thanksgiving Turkey: You thought you planned out your feast perfectly, but somehow you still have pounds of the stuff in the fridge. Might as well put it to good use!

Cranberry Sauce: Adds a bit of a zippy, tangy flavor to the quesadillas that cuts through the cheese.

Shredded Cheese: I used cheddar, Asiago, and pepper jack in mine and it was *chef’s kiss* — feel free to use your favorites, though!

Fresh Sage: Adds a pop of freshness and herbal flavor that ties everything together!

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5 Ingredients

4 whole wheat tortillas

2 cups Thanksgiving turkey chopped into small pieces

½ cup cranberry sauce

2 cup shredded cheese I used cheddar, Asiago, and pepper jack!

¼ cup chopped fresh sage

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Instructions

Step 01

Spray a large skillet with olive oil and heat over medium heat.

Step 02

Place the first wrap in the bottom of the skillet and top with ¼ cup cheese, ½ cup turkey, ¼ cup cranberry sauce, ⅛ cup sage, another ¼ cup cheese, and the second wrap. Grill for about 5 minutes on each side, or until melty and delicious.

Step 03

Take off the heat and cut into quarters to serve. Repeat with other ingredients to make a second quesadilla.

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Becky’s tips

Flipping the tortilla can be a little tricky. To avoid spills, use a spatula to slide the quesadilla onto a small plate. Cover with another plate; flip; remove the top plate and slide it all back into the skillet.

Don’t overload the wraps with food. Pay attention to the quantities listed in the recipe to avoid soggy, leaking quesadillas.

The sage leaves can be chopped to spread the flavor throughout. You can also use dried sage.

If you’re repurposing cheese from Thanksgiving appetizers, you can use thinly sliced or cubed cheese in the quesadillas– no need to shred it.

Storage: Store Thanksgiving quesadillas in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 days or in the freezer for up to 3 months.

Nutrition Information

Serving: 1quesadilla Calories: 872kcal (44%) Carbohydrates: 76g (25%) Protein: 65g (130%) Fat: 34g (52%) Saturated Fat: 17g (106%) Polyunsaturated Fat: 1g Monounsaturated Fat: 8g Trans Fat: 0.01g Cholesterol: 182mg (61%) Sodium: 1443mg (63%) Potassium: 441mg (13%) Fiber: 7g (29%) Sugar: 28g (31%) Vitamin A: 829IU (17%) Vitamin C: 1mg (1%) Calcium: 757mg (76%) Iron: 4mg (22%)

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[kenovele]

Bogs blog 30

We bit the bullet and decided to buy a six month membership at the climbing gym in Auckland. The gym is approximately a 40minute drive from home, however we have made it our mission to try and go at least twice a week and combine it with either seeing friends or family up in town or another activity. This way we stay motivated as sometimes, when it is raining, cold and a long drive in traffic, it really isn’t the easiest thing to do, so if we try to combine it with our social life we could get into the habit of it! The gym is pretty big. There is a pretty good bouldering section which they seem to update at least once a month, there are a lot of easy routes, and then there is a lead climbing section which is completely over hanging. Very hardcore. The overhanging section is bigger, longer and steeper than the one at Gecko ! The lead climbing section is the area where the routes do look the most interesting though. However, because this is an Anglo-Saxon country, it has rules, and of course, this climbing gym seems to be the strictest gym I have ever seen. Firstly, you need to get your belay license to prove that you can safely belay someone else – fair enough I guess, but the way they want us to belay is completely different to the very relaxed way that Benoit and I have the habit of belaying with. You can’t ‘tunnel’ your hand up the dead end of the rope, instead you have to bring your left hand down to the dead end, hold onto the rope, move your right hand up to the top of the dead end and then put your left hand back on the live end. It is a bit of a mental exercise, especially when someone is climbing quickly, your hands get in a muddle trying to keep the rope sufficiently tight. I believe Benoit also mentioned the belay experience in his last blog, but it merits a repeat due to the shear craziness of it! I digress, after you have your belay licence, you can climb on the top-roping walls, then you can take the lead climbing test, where you have to demonstrate your ability to climb and belay on lead. Which includes knowing how to fall correctly… hmm not my favourite thing in the world to be honest, so we haven’t get gone for our lead climbing test, but we are going to have to go shortly, as the harder routes are tempting us. So far, we have been to the climbing gym only a couple of times, and mainly bouldering, Jamie has come with us and seems to be enjoying it as much as we do which is really neat. He has the body and mindset for climbing, he is limber, tall, strong and fearless. It is impressive to see him going for jumps that my fully developed risk index wouldn’t let me do easily. I guess either his risk taking index is significantly lower than mine or he is better at blotting it out, probably it is somewhere in between the two. But yes, back into climbing and it has been good.

The tiny is pretty much complete, however last weekend we spent the wet weekend indoors making a few additions to the tiny. I made a stand for our gumboots as they are better to be kept outside, but ideally upside down to prevent them filling up with water when it rains. I was rather happy with my construction despite feeling a little bit ‘sloozy’. Benoit, who has transformed himself into a reasonably good woodworker decided to tackle a project a little bit more difficult. He made a shoe box for inside our front door, so instead of having massive pile of grassy shoes cluttering up the space in front of our door, they now fit perfectly into a little box which nestles in so very nicely next to our fridge. Benoit is proud of his creation and rightly so. The box has enough room so that we can each store three pairs of shoes (which probably accounts for the sum of Benoit’s shoes, whereas it is only a small percentage of mine). The shoebox also has two little storage compartments above and below for storing  a few things that are yet to have their place in our little home. It is very practical and ties in very nicely with the rest of our home. So far, we feel that we have made only good decisions when it comes to the decoration and building of our home… Except for the door. Oh that door. The one and only door we have connecting us to the outside world. The door has been a nightmare from the beginning, when we picked it up and it was only single glazed, then after transporting, the aluminium framing was bent, then some of the glass slipped out of the windows, which we managed to fix. Then when we installed it, it started leaking from an unknown place. Luckily Jamie just filled up every area imaginable with silicon and it seemed to have fixed it, at least for now. And now the curse of the door continues, we bought a curtain for it as we hoped that a thick thermal curtain would provide better insulation than a blind. After looking at curtains for a while we thought that we found a good deal in a colour that would suit our home, for the right price. Despite the curtain being the right size and made to measure, the colour is a bold teal blue, rather than the forest green that it looked like on the website. So now I have yet another bugbear with this door and its corresponding bold blue curtain. Yuck. I guess it can be considered a cheap short term solution for winter and that we will take it down over summer and try to find some nicer ones for next winter, but at the moment, it is a bit of an eyesore in our tiny home, and it takes up a lot of visual space. And I think that is the main problem, in such a small area, a big blue square in a cosy cabin of wood and green tones, it sticks out like a sore thumb. A constant reminder. I will have to mediate on it.

These last few weeks, we have really been able to enjoy cooking in the tiny, we have had a few more nights at home, and we are getting into the groove of living small. It is nice to have a space that is just big enough for two people. Cleaning it is a breeze (over in 10 minutes), we have a nice area to relax and snuggle up together to watch a movie on those cold winter nights (while I try to not look at the blue curtain), we have a beautiful bar to eat dinner at and a kitchen big enough that we can make anything. We have even made gnocchi which is a pretty impressive feat with a ‘tiny’ kitchen as the preparation takes up a decent amount of space. We do have a design that really focused on the kitchen and we love working in there together. Benoit has even made a few loaves of bread in the tiny, which he uses my amazing little barbeque to cook it in. Very impressive if you ask me. So yes, we are adjusting well to living small, I am still trying to downsize the amount of clothes that I own, slowly but surely. That is really my only problem with living small at the moment, I have been struggling with the shear volume of clothes that I own, and it is so hard to downsize as I have so many different requirements for my wardrobe. However that has been and continues to be my goal. At the moment, I have bought out everything in my closet that I am not sure about and I am forcing myself to wear it to work, to evaluate how I feel and if I don’t like it, off to the charity shop it shall go. It is a slow process, but I am getting there!

The real stress of these last few weeks as been for Benoit who has really been getting into his physio application and applied to do the English test on Saturday. It is a four part exam which takes into account reading, writing and listening over three hours and then a 20 minute speaking test. Although I am confident in Benoît’s grasp on the English language, it is stressful to be once again sitting in the examination seat. On Saturday we both drove up to town to my old university and while he was most likely stressing about verbs and nouns, I spent a few hours working on my engineering application to become a certified engineer in NZ. So we are both working towards our career goals. Look at us go 😉 Hopefully within a few weeks Benoit will submit his application and it will just be a waiting game for a few months. I will probably encourage him to go find a short term job in the mean time so we can start saving up for our next project or adventure!

All my love, Kate xxx